


Vignette - The First Departure

by leaper182



Series: Forged [2]
Category: The Dresden Files - All Media Types
Genre: But he's 18 in this fic, Harry has a crush on his teacher, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-04-10
Updated: 2008-04-10
Packaged: 2018-04-26 10:11:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5000764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leaper182/pseuds/leaper182
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first chance he saw, he took it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vignette - The First Departure

**Author's Note:**

> A warm thank you goes out to shiplizard and beachkid for their beta-reading, encouragement, and questions. I wouldn't have been able to make it without their patience and awesomeness. Thank you, guys!
> 
> Originally posted on April 10, 2008.

It wasn't that I wanted to go, but I had to.

It was November first, 1989. I was 18 years old -- legally able to travel all by myself, if not old enough to drink in the good, old US of A -- and I was _still_ in trouble.

They say that familiarity breeds contempt, but whoever said that must not have had a crush on his personal tutor. There were days when I could lay back in bed and imagine how his lips would taste if he were corporeal enough to kiss me, or how he'd feel in bed next to me, holding me in his arms as we slept. I could sit in the study and listen to him talk for hours about something I thought was incredibly boring because I like the way his cheeks get a little red, the way he gestures with his hands, the way he paces a little faster, and he breathes harder even when he doesn't have to. The way his voice rises and falls when he gets excited has fueled more wet dreams than I can count. If feeling all of that was contempt, I'd hate to see what happened if I _really_ liked him. So, three years after my disheartening realization and my nearly disastrous attempt to get rid of the crush, I found that I needed to get away.

"Harry, I realize that you feel the need to strike out on your own, but do you really think now is the best time?"

Unfortunately, Bob didn't seem to agree with me.

"Bob, we've been over this," I said, patting down my pockets and coming up empty. "Have you seen my wallet?"

Bob snorted, folding his arms across his chest in reply. " _Harry._ "

The tone of his voice made me stop dead in my tracks, fighting down irritation and desire at the same time. "Look, why are you so against me leaving? I thought the whole journeyman thing was popular in your time."

"It wasn't popular, it was the way things were done," Bob replied with exaggerated patience, blue-green eyes flashing. "And I would feel better about your leaving if you weren't so prone to getting into trouble all the time."

"The horse and buggy thing was last _year_ ," I objected. "Aren't you ever going to let that _go_?"

"I will 'let it go' when you can prove that you won't be arrested by the authorities in South America for witchcraft," Bob snapped.

"What-- Bob!"

"No, Harry." Bob shook his head firmly. "The horse and carriage incident is only the tip of the iceberg. What will you do if you're in trouble halfway 'round the world and you need your uncle's help to get out of it, hmm?"

"I said it before, and I'll say it again," I said as patiently as I could. "I need to be my own man, make mistakes and fix them on my own. I can't do that if I'm here."

"Harry--"

"Why are you _fighting_ me about this?" I asked, getting curious despite feeling really annoyed.

"Because I'm concerned for your well-being," Bob said with a sigh. "As _I've_ said previously, you don't have the practical hands-on training that a young man your age _should_ have. You could get yourself killed trying to use a spell you've only just learned."

"Yeah, because we both know how trigger-happy I am to try out new things after I learn them," I grunted.

Bob visibly bristled. "Need I remind you, you were willing to drink a badly-planned potion--"

"That was three years ago, Bob," I growled, cutting him off. It was still a touchy subject for me, I'll admit.

"And the 'borrowed' carriage was only last _year_ ," Bob snapped. "This sort of track record does _not_ bode well for your first venture out into the world, Harry." Bob folded his arms across his chest again. "In fact, I should count myself lucky if the rest of the world survives intact after you're through with it."

"You know me," I growled, yanking open a dresser drawer and checking in it for my wallet. "Harry Dresden, Destroyer of Worlds."

"As much as you might joke about it--" Bob started, his spine stiffening.

"I can't _stay_ here!" I blurted out, slamming the drawer shut again.

There was a long silence before either of us spoke again.

"Why not?" The question was soft, not accusing.

"It isn't my home," I muttered, not liking that I admitted it, but there it was. Turning to the bed, I sat down on it next to my open suitcase. I looked down at the comforter, noticing a loose thread.

Bob nodded the kind of nod that meant he understood my point, but saw a flaw in my logic. "And yet, your early childhood has left you with a distaste for travel over extended periods of time."

I picked at the thread. "It'll be my choice now, instead of going to wherever Dad has a job lined up."

"If you'll forgive me for saying so," Bob said slowly, "you don't appear to want to leave."

He was right. I didn't. "But I need to," I told him softly.

"Like you needed to borrow the horse and carriage?" Bob asked. "Like you needed to brew that potion?"

I gritted my teeth and looked up at him. Yeah, I'd made stupid mistakes before; I didn't need him to remind me I had. But just looking at him... For the past three years, I'd always been on the verge of saying something, letting it all come out, but I always held back. Now, more than any other time, I wanted to tell him everything. I could taste the words in my mouth.

And that's why I had to go.

"This is different." It sounded stupid, but it was still true.

"How so?" Bob asked.

"I need to figure out where I belong, Bob," I admitted. "And I know I don't belong here." Here where people wore suits and ties and were never home. Here where people who attended parties smiled when all they really wanted to do was stab you in the back. Here where the shadows stretched long and dark and menacing. I needed to get out while I still could.

Bob fell silent, and for a moment, I thought he might drop the subject, but as luck would have it, he didn't. "Where will you go?"

"I don't know," I mumbled.

"What will you do for money?" he asked.

"I'll figure something out."

"This is _precisely_ what I'm talking about, Harry," Bob said gently. "Without a proper plan, trouble could happen at any moment."

"Did you plan every step of the way when you left your teacher?" I asked suddenly, looking up at him.

"I was considerably more skilled at magic when I left my teacher than you are now," Bob pointed out, arching a grey eyebrow.

"Bob, I get it," I said quickly to head the lecture off at the pass. "I don't have the kind of practical training I should. So, my brilliant plan is to get it--" I gestured at the window, meaning the world at large. "--out there. If I didn't get the practical stuff I need here, I'm not going to get it unless I leave."

Bob looked like he was ready to bristle again, but then he sighed. I could guess that he was thinking the same thing I did -- a ghost did not a practical teacher make, even if I knew my theory backwards and forwards, though probably not as much as Bob would like. "I realize that, Harry, but there's a difference between staying here and gaining the practical knowledge you need, and striking out entirely on your own. The world isn't going to care how much theory you know. One moment of hesitation at the wrong time, and it could end badly."

"Meaning I wind up dead," I added. "I know that. And I know that if I let myself be too scared to make mistakes, to leave home, that I'm limiting myself. Aren't you the one who's always saying that I should live up to my potential?"

"I didn't mean for it to be at the risk of your _life_ ," Bob grumbled. "A teacher here, under controlled circumstances, can have a chance of saving you if a spell goes awry. Who knows what could happen to you--" He mimicked my gesture with more grace and less enthusiasm for the concept. "--'out there'."

"Who knows," I murmured, glancing at my suitcase. It was then that I found my wallet, sitting right on top of the clothes I'd already packed. I picked it up and stood, tucking it into my pocket. "Found my wallet."

"Harry, please reconsider," Bob said. But I could tell by the look on his face that he knew I wasn't going to budge, as much as either of us wanted me to.

I just shook my head. If I didn't leave now, I was going to go out of my mind, wanting him and not being able to have him. I just wasn't going to tell him that.

"Wish me luck?" I tried for a smile.

"In order to leave the world a smoking cinder?" Bob asked lightly, a smile in his voice, if not quite tugging at his lips.

"Please?" I asked, not liking how small and hopeful my voice sounded.

Bob blinked, and then frowned at me, looking curious. "Giving you my blessing means that much to you?"

The fact he had to ask was threatening to make my throat close up. "It never hurts to have permission to venture out and do some damage," I managed after a moment.

Bob snorted, the smile finally making an appearance for the first time in the conversation. "Try not to cause too much trouble, won't you?"

I nodded, my chest feeling lighter than air while all of my instincts in me shrieked not to leave, to stay and try to provoke that smile everyday. "Can't make any promises."

"Of course not," Bob said, his voice warming me to my toes.

I nodded, patting my pocket out of habit to make sure my wallet hadn't made a last-second valiant escape in the name of freedom, and then closed the suitcase, locking the clasps in place. Picking it up, I noticed that Bob had materialized himself next to the door.

"Be careful," he murmured.

I paused, and nodded. "I'll do my best."

"Write when you can," he added.

I nodded again, not sure how diligently I'd be able to do so, but not wanting to let Bob know that. Wouldn't have been nice to make him worry. "Good bye, Bob."

"Good bye, Harry," he said simply. "Even if you don't find what you're looking for, you'll have a place here."

Intellectually, I knew that he meant here in the estate, but my emotions had taken it to mean that he was talking about in his heart. I cleared my throat, trying to get the tight feeling out of it again, and nodded one last time before heading out of the door, down the hallway, and out of the range of Bob's skull.

When I got into the cab that was waiting for me downstairs, ready to take me to the airport, I thought I saw a pale figure standing in one of the bay windows where my old classroom used to be, but I shook my head and told myself that I needed to go.

So... I went.


End file.
